Christopher's Diary: Secrets of Foxworth - Page 67

“What lake? You mean the Foxworth lake?”

“Yes. It was different, maybe because it’s so ignored. It looks interesting. We can find a nice spot there, I’m sure.”

“I don’t know. My father’s still doing removal. Some of it has been fenced off and . . .”

“Not the lake. You’ve got influence,” he said. “I’ll pick up some sandwiches, drinks, fruit.”

“Oh, I can prepare a picnic,” I said. “It doesn’t seem like a picnic if everything is bought.”

He laughed. “Okay. I’ll bring the blanket, then, and my new iPod and Bluetooth speaker.”

“You’re sure about the weather?”

“I’ll call you around ten. We’ll know for sure by then, and I’ll pick you up around eleven thirty. Otherwise, maybe we’ll go to a movie or something.”

“I still have some homework. I’d like to be back by three.”

“Yes, Madam Valedictorian,” he kidded.

We talked for a few minutes in his car in my driveway. I thanked him for dinner again, but he insisted on thanking me, telling me I had made the dinner worth it, not the restaurant.

We kissed, a long kiss but a soft, warm kiss that was full of promise, and then he walked me to my door, kissed me again, and whispered, “Good night. Dream of me, please. I know I will dream of you.”

I watched him walk back to his car. He paused, gave me that tantalizing smile, and slipped in behind the wheel gracefully.

I opened the door and entered. There was my father waiting up in the living room, doing his usual pretending to be too interested in something on television to go up to bed.

“Well?” he said, turning to me. “Was it still everything it’s cracked up to be?”

“More. At least, to me.”

“Really?” He looked thoughtful. “Well, I’m glad for you, then, Kristin. You deserve good things.”

“So do you, Dad. Oh,” I said, “it’s not raining. It was just a short shower, apparently, and the sky’s clearing. Kane wants to take me on a picnic tomorrow.”

“Crazy weather. I heard it was going to be about ten degrees above normal tomorrow. Picnic in early November, but I guess you could enjoy it. Where are you going?”

“We thought we’d go to the Foxworth lake, if that’s all right with you.”

“The Foxworth lake? Kind of overgrown.”

“It’s interesting. Kane thinks so. I guess I do, too. All right?”

“Just stay away from the building site and the wreckage. I have it all fenced off, but there’s still a lot to do around it.”

“Okay,” I said, kissing him good night, and I hurried up the stairs to prepare for bed.

The thought of returning to Foxworth, however, brought me back to Christopher’s diary seconds after I had brushed my teeth and slipped under the blanket.

Dared I think it?

It was almost as if I was going to where my family had been, my lost family, almost as if they were drawing me to them with this diary and with what else they had left behind, especially all the secrets.

Maybe, because I didn’t have many intellectually challenging things to do or adults to talk to, I began to think more and more a

bout our grandmother. What had turned her into the monster we saw? Was it simply being married to a very hard, fanatically religious man? What was her youth like? How did she come to marry such a man? Or was she the one who influenced him?

A number of times, both Cathy and I caught her peering in at us. She would open the door slightly and spy on us as if she had expected to catch us doing one of the unholy things she had forbidden. Then I thought maybe she was really curious about us now, not thinking that we would do evil but wondering how we could be such attractive and intelligent children and yet be born of what she called a sinful act. I even wondered if she didn’t believe we would change form or something, become other creatures once the door was closed. Rarely did we see her spy on us when we were in the attic.

Tags: V.C. Andrews
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